‘I didn’t use the word innocent. I was never that. All the time we were in Wexford, I left her vulnerable. I wasn’t brought here because of what happened. I was brought here because they thought I was mad. Don’t waste your time, Dr Ebbs, the life I have now is my life. I’ve learned to accept it, that’s all.’
‘Ellie, why did you tell me all of this if it’s of no consequence?’
‘Lately, I’ve started to feel different. The change scares me.’
‘Change can be a good thing.’
‘It won’t bring her back.’
‘No it won’t, but at least you are talking about it.’
‘Talk is cheap.’
‘It can be, but not this time I don’t think.’
He hands me a plastic cup of water from the dispenser over by the window.
‘Ellie, you said about the ribbons, the ribbons in her hair, that when you found her, they didn’t look the way Amy would wear them, that the ribbons weren’t hers.’
He walks back to his desk and rummages through the file. He takes out an old photograph of me and Amy.
‘You said that when you found her, her hair was in plaits.’
‘Yes.’
‘But they looked different.’
‘They were tied with perfect red bows.’
My head throbs. I want the ground to swallow me up. I look into the plastic cup filled with water and I can see the sea, puddles building up in the sand, the past swirling around my feet like quicksand. That familiar sinking feeling, knowing this time if I go down, I might never get back up again.
Dr Ebbs picks up the copybook and rereads the words. He seems distant, as if his frame is closing in on me. Small details overlap each other, his shape appears loose, his voice farther away. I try to get him back into focus, but it’s like I’m wearing glasses that no longer suit my eyes. Everything around me darkens. I put my head in my hands, and the pain begins to settle. It takes all my strength to look back up.
‘The fire, Dr Ebbs.’
‘What about the fire, Ellie?’
I’m back there again, being dragged out, the cracking of the windows, the flames as they roared, the stench of rubber, and then that smell, the one I least expected.
‘I had not expected it.’
‘Had not expected what?’
‘The smell of burned flesh, Dr Ebbs, I had not expected that.’
‘Ellie, I’m so sorry.’
He unlocks the bottom drawer in his desk and gives me two white tablets, gesturing for me to drink my water again. I swallow both straight down.
I trust him. I now have two people in this hospital to trust. He waits. I can’t tell how long it is before I raise my head and finally look at him.
‘Just one other thing, Ellie.’
‘Yes.’ I feel the tablets kicking in quickly.
‘In this photograph …’ He holds up the one of me and Amy, the one taken the year before we went to Wexford. ‘You look happy in this picture, Ellie.’
I look at the woman in the photograph, and again I wonder where she has gone. I don’t know who she is any more.
‘Yes.’
‘Who took the photograph, Ellie?’
‘Andrew.’
‘Joe’s brother?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you love him?’
‘I thought I did.’
Dr Ebbs hands me the copybook, this time holding my left elbow as he leads me to the door. He calls one of the new nurses. She tells me her name is Sinead, like it should make a difference. She seems kind. I don’t mind her taking me to my room. At least now, I know I will sleep.
Mervin Road
Saturday, 8 October 2011, 5.30 p.m.
IT HAD BEEN OVER AN HOUR SINCE THE BULKY motorbike courier with his glistening black helmet had pounded up the pebbled pathway of Kate’s home, a large brown parcel covered in protective plastic under his arm. Kate had spread the photographs out like a mismatched carpet across the study floor, grabbing the desklight down beside her as she knelt to examine each one in detail. The images revealed themselves like an old movie playing out slowly, each of them somehow intimate in their silence. She checked again that the study door was locked, shutting out the world outside and keeping the horror within, safe from her son.
As she studied both sets of photographs, it was clear that the girls’ similarities were more glaring than their differences: both were beautiful, both young adolescents, both covered with a sprinkled layer of clay, like a second skin. Kate went back to the photograph with the gleaming crucifix. There was something about it that bothered her: what was it? The clothes – Caroline’s school uniform and Amelia’s jeans and tracksuit top – although at odds, could be distanced from how both girls looked, but the crucifix on Caroline, being so close to the plaiting and the ribbons, didn’t make sense. He was crafting them, she was sure of it, turning them into an image that was important to him. So why leave one with a crucifix, and one without?
Kate looked down to both girls’ hands, their small, delicate fingers intermingled, looking almost like stone. Standing back from the photographs, something else struck her. It was as if both girls were kneeling, reminding Kate of stone guardian angels you would see in a graveyard, erected in memory of the dead. Once the connection was made, each time she looked at the images, Kate kept seeing the very same thing.
When she heard Declan putting his key in the door, she opened the door of the study and went out to them. Charlie was asleep on his dad’s shoulders, exhausted from the park. Declan put his index finger up to his lips, signalling for her to keep quiet. As she still hadn’t finished her report, Kate was relieved to see her son asleep. Declan went in the direction of Charlie’s bedroom and she left him to it, slipping back into her study to finish the report.
≈
It was past nine o’clock by the time she was ready to phone O’Connor. Everything in the report had been composed based on logical reasoning, but there were other elements that had crept into her mind over the course of the evening, elements she couldn’t include, not yet.
Report on the Murders of
Caroline Devine and Amelia Spain
Compiled by Dr Kate Pearson
Crime scene characteristics:
Organised.
Secondary crime scenes.
Both burials detailed.
High level of intimacy demonstrated (perceived or otherwise) with victims.
Minimal trace evidence gathered from secondary crime scenes.
No sign of sexual assault. (See cause of death and body markings below.)
Difficult terrain.
Location: Dublin Mountain Zone.
Large stone deposits both locations.
Remote.
Ease of access to city.
Contrasting site characteristics:
(Site A)
Area of natural beauty, stream, views of surrounding forests, heather, large elderberry tree, abundance of birdlife, green and luscious.
(Site B)
Special Area of Conservation – grave area particularly barren, little or no natural greenery, flatter land contours, calcareous bedrock.
Cause of death:
Asphyxiation, in both cases.
Injuries to victims:
(Caroline Devine)
Pressure markings on victim’s neck – manual strangulation.
Multiple blows to head. Blunt force trauma, causing large loss of blood.
(Amelia Spain)
Ligature markings on victim’s neck, strangulation by form of cable/cord.
Bruising to face – no blood loss.
Positioning and observation of victims:
Preadolescent females.
Similarity of build/facial features and hair colouring.
Both girls physically fit: swimmers.
Both put in foetal position (rigor forced with first burial).
Hair plaited.
Hair tied with red ribbons (identical ribbon used).
Hands joined t
ogether (fingers intermingled as if in prayer).
Earrings missing from Caroline Devine.
Cross/Crucifix on silver-plated chain left with Caroline Devine, around her neck.
Clothing – School Uniform (Caroline) versus jeans and tracksuit top (Amelia).
Abduction:
Caroline Devine – Victim last seen mid-afternoon.
Amelia Spain – Victim last seen early evening.
Inferences (behavioural factors):
Killer may have certain specifications that his victims needed to fulfil (physical similarities), and perhaps personality traits.
Killer wasn’t sloppy, demonstrating a high level of intelligence. (Research has established that the more organised and methodical a killer, the more intelligent he is likely to be.)
Tidiness of crime scenes consistent with ability to desensitise, compartmentalise events, perhaps to the extent of externalising blame. Psychopathic reasoning – may believe his victims have let him down.
Could be familiar with the area or, in Caroline Devine’s case, may have an attachment to it, other than the privacy offered.
Both burials occurred during hours of darkness. This and the physical act of burying victims mean, if he acted alone, the killer was physically fit, male most likely, and capable of managing a difficult terrain. Possibly someone at ease with the outdoors.
Blows to the head in the case of Caroline Devine, at odds with second murder – could be the result of the killer becoming panicked or angry.
Ability to strangle defenceless victims, capable of disconnection.
Ribbons/plaiting/positioning of victims – aspects of burials giving value to him.
Details of first postmortem – killer prepared body elsewhere, someplace he felt safe.
Blows to the head of Caroline Devine frenzied as noted above, could have been reactionary. Bruising and killing of Amelia most likely planned.
No indicators that either attack was sexually motivated.
Attention to detail – burial crafted.
Risk-taker within controlled parameters. Abduction of Caroline Devine in broad daylight. Likely to have taken risks before – burglary or other similar offences.
Calmness, planning, attention to detail, ability to develop trust with victim, indicating older/mature person, and someone not perceived as a threat.
Conclusions:
Male
Physically fit
Outdoor recreational interests
Age profile 30 +
Intelligent
Educated
Working in professional environment
Planner
Repeats behaviour
Lives alone
Risk-taker – history of burglary/similar offences
Attention to detail – high
Level of control – high
Ability to disconnect and compartmentalise events – high
Capable of establishing trust/building rapport
Ribbons/plaiting/positioning of body of personal relevance
Choice of victims based on physical and personality traits.
Stalks, and seeks relationship – murder may not be main motivation for subsequent killings.
Similarities in age and physical characteristics of victims – early basic pattern.
Selection of burial sites unlikely random – first site may be of greater significance.
***Likelihood of repeat killing – HIGH***
≈
The phone only rang twice before O’Connor picked up.
‘O’Connor, Kate here.’
‘Just about to phone you.’
‘The report’s ready.’
‘Good, Nolan’s been on my case.’
‘Can we meet? There are a couple of things I’d prefer to talk through with you face to face.’
‘Sure. Where?’
‘Near here, if possible.’
‘I could call up.’
‘No don’t do that. Charlie’s asleep. I’ll meet you in Slattery’s.’
‘Give me ten minutes.
Meadow View
HE FOUND THE HOUSE EASILY USING GOOGLE MAPS. He was already familiar with the street, having passed through it many times before. Research was vital. Getting to grips with the exterior, grounds front and back, connection and proximity to surrounding dwellings, streets and laneways, were all part of the preparation process. He was pleased the rear of the house had a large garden, with access to a laneway running along the back of the houses, and those opposite. Each house had a side entrance, connecting front and back of the property accessible at ground level. So much could be done from the comfort of your own home, and he wanted to get all the external factors about her location firmly in his mind before making his next move.
It was dark by the time he left Meadow View, but the darkness always pleased him. He loved the night, drifting through it, almost invisible in his black running gear, avoiding streetlights, slipping easily around corners, sliding from one street to the next. There was a special hum tonight, cars passing, making a swishing sound as their tyres embraced the damp tarmac, raised voices from a basement flat causing his head to turn, a cat rummaging in a bin. They all converged in the symmetry of the night. The roads became quieter as he neared her street. He moved with ease, having learned over time the art of being unseen.
The streetlights bounced off the wet concrete, showing the tentative beginnings of black ice. As a boy, he had found the dark to be an adventure, offering him insights into many things that daylight could not. He had a natural boyhood curiosity, often going from place to place unnoticed, well after he’d been sent upstairs. ‘Go along up, darling, and read some of your books’, ‘William, it’s time for you to go upstairs’, ‘Mommy is entertaining, run along now’. He was something to be dismissed, the list of prompts as endless as the nights. He didn’t mind going upstairs, preferring his room to spending time with her and whatever male companion she’d chosen to replace him. Most of them let him be, but those who didn’t, with their pathetic efforts at being friendly, irritated him more. When it came to the many male guests his mother entertained, he was well aware that neither they nor his mother wanted him as part of their enjoyment.
He was glad he’d decided to go out running. Running wasn’t normally one of his night-time pursuits, but he’d made an exception because of the necessary timing of events. When he left Meadow View, he did so with two destinations in mind, and neither had a lot to do with healthy exercise.
≈
The first thing he noticed was the open window on the first floor, at the side of the house. There was a light on in the room, but the blind was down. He wasn’t sure which level she lived on, but it wouldn’t take him long to find out. The small gate was ajar, so he moved quickly into the front garden. There were lights on in the top-floor apartment, too, so he stood back in the shadows, a large laurel hedge giving him all the protection he needed. He looked at the windows in the basement apartment; a latch hadn’t been pulled over on one of them. Some people were far too trusting. It often surprised him that others didn’t think the way he did. He’d been amazed at the number of times he had found it nearly too easy to break into places. Often, there would be an open or an unlocked window, or the occupants might leave a door ajar while they put out their rubbish, or went to talk to a neighbour.
Sometimes, as was the case with the Devines, the lights would be left on upstairs when the curtains weren’t pulled. The second time he’d seen Caroline, he had made the decision to follow her home, knowing he could check everything out on Google Maps once he had an address. Her home wasn’t far from the swimming pool. It took him no time to return later that night, in the dark. The Devines never left unlocked windows or doors, but by leaving their curtains open upstairs he could watch and wait. He was a patient man. Caroline would do her homework each night by the bedroom window, looking out onto the canal. Sometimes, if he got lucky, while she was there she would call a friend on her mobile or she’d go on the internet
with her laptop, all of which meant he could watch her for longer. He had watched people like this before, all sorts. Once, he’d watched a family for months. They’d intrigued him, they’d always seemed so happy. In the end, he had tired of them and moved on to more interesting subjects. When it came to peeping into windows at night, the early dark evenings proved very handy.
The act of breaking in still excited him as much as it had always done, and that night was no exception. He knew this was her place, he had seen her coming out of it before. All he needed to do was establish which floor she lived on. It wouldn’t take him long to check out the intercom system and get his bearings before making his house call later.
The name Cassidy on the middle buzzer threw him initially, before remembering her husband’s surname, proving once again how vital research was in these matters. The fact that Kate lived on the first floor meant an opportunity to demonstrate his dexterity and agility, which was at its peak from summer months spent hiking and hill climbing. Although keeping agile and being fit were important, ensuring swift and easy movements meant success wasn’t just in the agility, but in the keenness of the eye.
Pulling back into the shadows behind the deep laurel hedge, he made his final appraisal of the building. The sudden click of the garden gate was unexpected, but he remained calm. The little boy, wearing his woolly hat, rested his head in sleep on his father’s shoulders. Lucky Charlie, he thought, having a father to love him.
Ellie
IT’S THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT BEFORE I WAKE. THE medication Dr Ebbs gave me rendered me unconscious from the moment I got back to my room. Now my mouth feels dry and my tongue enormous, like some savage beast wanting to choke me. It’s hard to believe, but I feel even more lethargic than normal.
I almost want to laugh out loud when I think about the woman I used to be, the one who ran so quickly through her thoughts in her eager effort to avoid them. I stumble out of bed and drink some water from the tap. It doesn’t take long for my eyes to grow accustomed to the dark. I wash my face, and the water chills from the outside in. When I sit back down on the bed, my knees curl instinctively tight into my chest. I wrap my arms around them.
The weather has changed. The wind is rising. It sounds as wild as the one from a few nights back. The pelting rain hits the small window panes in an attempt to bring freshness, fast and heavy, the wind carrying it in sheets of water, with barely time to stay on the glass. I watch the rainwater flow down in large puddles, mushrooming into one another. It’s as if the water wants to clear everything in its path, wipe away all that is no longer necessary.
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